


Over a Cup of Coffee (or Five)

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Attraction, Canon Compliant, Coffee Shops, Developing Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Identity Porn, M/M, Missing Scene, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Oculus (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 04:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: Fives times Leonard runs into Iris at Jitters - and one time Barry joins them for drinks.





	Over a Cup of Coffee (or Five)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [За чашечкой кофе (или пятью)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708971) by [germi_00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/germi_00/pseuds/germi_00)

> From the initial 'what if Snart kept running into Iris at Jitters?' idea until finishing this fic, this took SO MUCH LONGER than I intended - and only partially because it also grew a lot longer than the quick-and-dirty fives times vignette it was supposed to be. Half a dozen writer's block and too much real life drama later, I'm so glad it's finally done and I hope you'll enjoy it! 
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful friend S. for the beta!

**I. Blending In** _(November 2014)_

There's something uniquely thrilling about planning a job in public, in the middle of a busy coffee shop just a few hundred feet from the police station, right under the eyes of Central City's unsuspecting citizens. 

To the people buzzing around him, Leonard is just a guy working on his laptop while he's enjoying a venti latte. He could be an author or a graphic designer or a structural engineer for all they know, and no one bothers to pay close attention as he studies blueprints and floor plans for blind spots and entry points.

Leonard himself can't afford that kind of ignorance, keenly vigilant of his surroundings, keeping an eye and an ear out for trouble while he's working. As well as he blends in, there's always a risk that someone will recognize him and raise a fuss, be it an uncommonly observant cop or a former associate unhappy with how they left things. Unlikely, but not impossible. If it happens, he's prepared. The Cold Gun is too bulky and noticeable to bring along, but that doesn't mean he's come unarmed.

As the hour progresses, the place clears out. 

The barista is wiping down the empty tables when a guy sitting by the window hails her for a refill. Leonard watches her get the coffee, satisfied that neither of them seem to pay him any mind, before he diverts his attention back to the layout of Brookfield Heights Auctions and the question of how to get in there and safely out again with a backpack full of valuables.

"Sorry, I really need to get back to work."

The barista's voice carries over, loud in the almost empty room and with an edge it didn't have earlier, when she'd handed Leonard his coffee with a smile. His head snaps up just in time to see the customer grab her wrist. 

"What work? There's no one here! Come on, honey, don't be like that. Sit down, have a drink with me." The man smiles in a way that makes Leonard's skin prickle even at a distance. 

If someone pulled this shit with Lisa, she'd take that coffee and pour it out right over the creep's head before slapping him with the pot until he was unconscious. But Lisa has had years of experience dealing with men who think that a pretty girl smiling at them gives them permission to take all kinds of liberties, and she had to learn the hard way to be ruthless, putting down unwanted attention without giving an inch. 

Unlike the young barista, who clearly struggles to stay professional and defuse the situation politely. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but you're getting me into trouble." 

She's gently tugging at her arm to get free of the guy's hold, and Leonard already knows that he won't budge. That type never does, not unless someone makes them. That someone doesn't have to be him, though. He's no one's savior, and he doesn't give a fuck about good deeds to even out his karma score. 

But the girl's discomfort radiates through the entire coffeeshop, and Leonard feels an unsolicited twinge of pity. Maybe if someone had stepped in years and years ago when it was Lisa who was getting harassed by assholes like this, before she smothered all her soft parts and taught herself to hurt rather than get hurt— 

Fuck it. 

Leonard pushes himself out of the chair and stealthily slinks over to where the barista is still trying to talk her way out of the asshole's grip, without much success. One good thing about it – neither of them notice Leonard until he's right behind them and speaks, startling them both.

"How about you _slow down_ a bit, pal?" 

His tone is quiet but sharp, and it has the desired effect of directing all the attention towards him. The barista's head quickly jerks around while her assailant glowers. 

"What's it to you, jackass? Mind your own fucking business and let me and my friend have some fun."

_Friend_, right. Out of the corner of his eye, Leonard catches the girl's expression, dark eyes narrowing and lips pursed, anger barely hidden, and he wonders if he misjudged her earlier. Perhaps she wouldn't have needed someone to interfere on her behalf after all. Too late for that, now that Leonard's inserted himself into the situation.

"Pretty obvious that the lady isn't interested, so why don't you call it a night? And maybe look for a new place to get your coffee. You'll find the reception here will be rather _cold_ in the future." 

He casually lets his jacket fall open, just enough that the guy can catch a glimpse of the gun sitting in his waistband while keeping it out of the barista's line of sight. Leonard can tell the exact moment when the man spots the weapon, his eyes going wide and whatever protest or insult he was just about to hurl at Leonard dying on his tongue. He instantly drops the girl's arm and half-raises his hands in a placatory gesture.

"Hey, look, man, I don't want no trouble. I'll just be on my way, okay?"

"Smart man," Leonard says, and if he can't keep the sarcasm and condescension out of his tone... well, what's the guy gonna do about it?

Nothing at all, it predictably turns out. The scumbag stands and makes a beeline for the door, not quite running away, but it's not what anyone would call a measured retreat, either. 

Leonard's gaze follows him until the door swings shut, then he turns to the barista.

"Don't think our friend will be coming back anytime soon."

"Well, I'm not gonna miss him." Angling her body away from Leonard, she protectively crosses her arms in front of her and offers him a tight smile. She's older than he initially thought, maybe mid-twenties, her fresh-faced appearance and the cheerful smile from earlier taking off a few years and making her seem more youthful than she probably is. "Thanks for chasing him off. We don't usually get people like that here. Being across the street from the police department is enough to make them behave." 

There's something tense about the way she's appraising him, the wariness of someone who's probably had to deal with self-professed white knights coming to her rescue and then asking for a reward before. 

Leonard can appreciate her caution. 

"Don't mention it," he says casually, trying to convey that he has no interest in replacing that guy's unwanted attention with his own. He wouldn't be surprised if she brought up the proximity to CCPD for his benefit. "I'll be out of your hair soon. Let me just grab my stuff."

"It's okay. There's no need to rush. I gotta finish cleaning before I lock up anyway. You can finish up whatever you were working on before."

He gives a small nod to acknowledge her offer, but has no intention of lingering. Returning to his table, he quickly deletes his browser history – better safe than sorry – before he starts packing up. No need to overstay his welcome. Much as he lives for the thrill of walking the edge of danger, sticking around would cross the line into foolishly reckless.

He's halfway towards the door when the barista calls out to him.

"Hey, wait." 

She comes towards him with a bounce in her step. Her smile is back, if perhaps a little dimmer than when she took his order. But she's shaken off the visible discomfort and awkward tension that had a firm grip on her just a few minutes ago. It's like she's decided that Leonard is not someone she needs to be afraid of. It's an amusing thought, considering who he is and that he literally _iced_ a man barely two weeks ago. 

She hands him a latte he most definitely didn't order. "Here, another one for the road. On the house. It's cold out there tonight." 

Leonard's lips twitch at the pun she doesn't know she just made. "Indeed it is."

**II. (Not So) Secret Identities** _(April 2015)_

Basketball cap drawn deep down onto his forehead, Leonard's waiting in line to get his coffee. He responds to the overly cheerful barista's chatter with innocuous, monosyllabic answers, but the kid isn't deterred by the attitude, taking his sweet time getting Leonard his coffee, when a familiar figure sidles up next to the smiling boy. 

"I got this, Dan. You can take your break if you like."

Judging from the way she's glowering, Iris West clearly doesn't share her colleague's good mood. It doesn't stop Dan from giving her a huge grin and a thumbs-up. "You're the best, Iris," he says, and he has the audacity to _wave_ at Leonard as he turns to go. 

Iris wordlessly pours a drink and slams the lid on with so much force that the plastic cracks before unceremoniously shoving the cup at Leonard. "Here. I made it to-go. Meaning, you have two minutes to get out of here before I call the police."

Well, well, well. 

Looks like someone has better observation skills than your average Central City citizen. Not a surprise, given that she's Joe West's daughter, but part of Leonard – the part that thrives on attention and gets a kick from taking risks – preens at being recognized, even if he takes care not to show it. 

He clicks his tongue. "Testy. You were less frosty the last time I saw you."

Less forward, too. Leonard still remembers her polite, restrained attempts to get rid of the presumptuous asshole who'd hit on her. Then again, he imagines her ties to the Flash have made her bolder. Why hold back when you have a friend with super powers on speed dial? 

"The last time I didn't know you were a wanted criminal playing at being some kind of comic book supervillain," she hisses, stepping around the counter and lowering her voice like she's trying not to escalate the situation and endanger her colleagues and other customers. It would be a smart move, but it's in stark contrast to her threat. If she was trying to avoid spooking him, she'd have smiled and handed over the coffee and quietly called the cops or, better yet, the Flash, without announcing it to him. It makes him wonder what exactly her game is. 

And even though he'd had no intention of hanging around at Jitters for longer than necessary, he's never been good at letting a mystery go. He can't resist pulling at loose threads and seeing what comes apart.

He puts on a smile of well-practiced politeness, the one that's so obviously fake that everyone who knows who he really is and what he's capable of recognizes as a threat. "Well, I didn't know you were an aspiring journalist with a connection to the Flash either, so I guess we were both at a disadvantage."

It's a satisfying sight to watch her eyes go wide and a hint of fear pass across her face. 

"I don't—"

"Please. I read your blog. Good writing, not so sure about the title. _Saved by The Flash_? Bit too flowery and on the nose. More adoring fan than hard-hitting journalist."

"Great. Constructive criticism from a man who robs museums and shoots people for a living. Just what I always wanted." That brief moment of trepidation is already gone, her tone dripping with sarcasm. 

She grips his arm and pulls him away from the others towards a table in a far corner. 

For a moment, he's too stunned to react. People don't touch him. Certainly not the people who know him as Captain Cold, not if they like having all their limbs unfrozen. Even random strangers and casual acquaintances usually avoid physical contact, discouraged by his posture and his glare. Other than his sister, who's never been a touchy-feely kind of person to begin with, Leonard takes care to keep people at arm's length. With a gun attached to that arm if necessary. 

Evidently, Iris West has no such reservations, boldly manhandling him and only letting go when she's pushed him towards the seat. He doesn't know whether to be annoyed or a little in awe, and by the time he's recovered from the initial bewilderment, the time to glare at her and pull away has long passed.

"Is that why you're here?" she asks. "Because you think I have some kind of in with the Flash? Look, if you think you can take me hostage and have me call him up to come running to my rescue so you can set a trap, that's not gonna work."

He rolls his eyes. His plan for today was 'get a coffee, stake out the latest exhibition at the Merchant art gallery and have dinner with Lisa', but Iris doesn't have to know that. "Ah, yes, I'm sure you'd rather die than call him, or something equally dramatic and self-sacrificial." 

"No, you jerk, I just have no way of contacting him. I may be writing a blog about him, but I don't know who he is."

The ridiculous claim startles a laugh out of him. How gullible does she think he is? "Right. Sure you don't." 

But she doesn't flinch or nervously look away, or display any tells that she's lying, and he could swear that the way she purses her lips in annoyance is genuine.

"Not for the lack of trying, believe me. I mean, I've talked to him, but he keeps doing that creepy thing where he vibrates his face. You know what I mean." 

He doesn't, actually. Barry never bothered with that when he talked to Leonard. In fact, even if it hadn't been for Cisco offering up Barry's identity in exchange for his brother's well-being and freedom, Leonard had always found Barry startlingly careless with his disguise. It's curious that he's apparently been more invested in concealing his identity around his best friend than from the people he fights. If Iris is telling the truth, that is – and he's starting to believe that she might.

"You really don't know." He watches her with narrowed eyes for any sign of deception, but can't find any. Cop's daughter or not, he can't imagine her being that good a liar.

She shrugs. "Sorry, Snart, forcing me to reveal his identity is out, if that's what you were hoping for."

Leonard doesn't bother holding back his satisfied smile, delighting in drawing the moment out by taking a long, indulgent sip of his coffee. It's good coffee, too – whatever misgivings Iris has about one of the Flash's villains frequenting her workplace, she didn't stoop to messing with his order. 

"Don't have to. I'm a step ahead of you there."

It takes a few seconds for his words to hit home, and all at once, as the implications sink in, Iris's entire demeanor changes. She straightens her back and her eyes on him turn sharp and taxing as she pulls up a chair and sits. 

"Wait, are you telling me you know who's under the mask? You know who the Flash is?" She leans forward a little and her voice takes a conspiratorial note, all the earlier antagonism wiped away. It looks like she's mere seconds away from pulling out a pen and a notebook and asking him for a quote for her article, on the record. "I don't suppose I could convince you to share that intel?"

He waits a few beats before replying, pretending to mull it over even though he's already certain what his answer will have to be. He and Barry made a deal, and right now, that deal serves him well. It's not in his best interest to break it at this time. 

"Sorry, no can do. Not my secret to tell." He finishes his coffee and watches her over the rim of the disposable cup, almost a little sorry to dash the eager, hopeful curiosity on Iris's face. 

She's not quite ready to admit defeat, however. "Oh, come on, Snart. You and the Flash are enemies. Everyone saw that when you broadcast that message calling him out. You can't tell me that you're morally opposed to exposing his identity."

Appealing to the devil on his shoulder? Cute. 

Even if it's not gonna work, he still appreciates her determination and her underhandedness. There's something almost... roguish about it. It's a shame she shares Barry's commitment to law and justice, because she'd make a damn fine addition to his crew.

"Nothing moral about it. But I ain't giving away leverage like that. Knowing what he looks like under that suit's my get-out-of-jail-free card. Can't risk that by blabbing to a blogger. Not even one as lovely as you, Miss West."

She huffs, but between the faint blush rising on her cheeks and the way she averts her head and tangles an errant strand of hair around a nervous finger, it's easy to tell that she's flustered. 

Interesting. 

Leonard has a distaste for honey-potting – that's more Lisa's style than his – but he has an inkling that charming Barry's friend wouldn't be at all impossible if he set his mind to it, despite the fact that she's well aware of what kind of man he is. There'd be little to be gained from it, he supposes, except for the delight of getting under Barry's skin. The prospect of seeing the lightning flash in those lovely green eyes has an undeniable appeal, and Leonard is tempted, so tempted.

No. He abruptly stands and brushes himself off, scrunching the empty cup in his fist. 

He's already too invested in the Speedster as it is.

Still, he can't resist throwing a final parting shot over his shoulder as he leaves: "If you run into our scarlet hero, give him my regards." 

If she answers, the words are swallowed by the chatter in the air and the clatter of dishes from the counter.

It's probably for the best.

**III. No Goodbyes** _(January 2016)_

"You got some nerve showing your face here," Iris hisses when Leonard casually slides into the chair opposite hers, coffee in hand and his eyes shielded by a pair of sunglasses, a minimum effort attempt to conceal his identity. 

It always amazes him how unobservant people are. His face has been splashed all over the news since his little broadcast to lure out the Flash, and his recent prison break only gave him more publicity. But as long as he doesn't wear the parka and the Cold Gun, no one pays him any mind. Except for his unwilling coffee date, of course. 

Iris is glaring at him, but she doesn't reach for her phone to call in reinforcements, so Leonard figures that he probably won't need to resort to another bluff to threaten her into listening what he has to say, like he did the other night at the West home with Barry.

He shrugs and reaches across the table to steal a piece of her muffin. Salted caramel. Nice. 

"Figured it would go down better than another house call. Service is better here too." He mockingly raises the disposable cup, ice cubes rattling against the plastic.

Iris eyes it skeptically. "It's not really the season for cold drinks, is it?"

"True. I do favor hot cocoa in winter. Couldn't resist getting myself an Iced Flash before I leave, though. For old times' sake." His smirk is wide and fake and aimed to be as obnoxious as possible. He has no particular reason to rile Iris up, but the urge is too strong to resist. 

To his surprise, she lets out an amused snort, clearly less annoyed at his hostile little pun than he expected. 

"You're ridiculous, Snart," she tells him with a shake of her head, no heat in her words. "No one should be that committed to their supervillain persona. And what do you mean, 'before you leave'?"

He takes a sip from his drink and lets his gaze wander through the room, watching the afternoon crowd go about their day, friends laughing together and people working on laptops, businessmen and women hurrying through the aisle balancing to-go cups while talking on their phones. 

He's going to miss Central. 

He's been gone before, sometimes for months at a time, laying low after a heist or pulling jobs in Keystone or Coast City or, on one memorable occasion, in Gotham. But something feels different this time. Like his leave of absence somehow carries more weight.

"Snart? Where are you planning on going?"

Leonard turns back towards Iris, deciding it's time to quit stalling. "Got an offer I can't refuse. Some annoying English guy from the future with a chip on his shoulder is rounding up a team to fight some immortal asshole with a penchant for world domination. Turns out Mick and me got a particular set of skills needed for the job."

She gives him a quizzical look, raised eyebrow and all, zeroing in on the part he hoped she wouldn't mention. "I thought you weren't interested in being a hero?"

"And I'm _not_. Couldn't pass on the opportunity to steal priceless treasures through the ages, though. What good thief would turn down the chance to expand his hunting grounds through time travel?"

"Right." The skeptical tone suggests that his explanation doesn't fly with her, even less than it did with Mick, but she doesn't call him on it. Small mercies. "Why are you telling me all of this? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the heads-up, but shouldn't you be having this conversation with Barry?"

He shrugs it off, like it doesn't matter. "Figured you could fill him in."

It's not like he didn't think about it. Barry's not exactly hard to track down, and Leonard wouldn't be above breaking into his home again for a little chat. He doesn't particularly want to face Barry's gloating if he learned about Leonard embarking on a mission to save the world from Vandal Savage, but that ain't the reason Leonard decided against telling him in person. Yes, the 'I told you so' would be grating, but Leonard would roll his eyes and tell Barry how foolish he is to believe that there's good in him, which wouldn't be all that different from most of their encounters since their little deal in the woods, really. 

But even though Central is Leonard's home and he'll miss it, there are very few things here that he genuinely hesitates to leave behind. He's painfully aware that his resolve to skip town might not survive facing them. It's why there's a letter to Lisa, telling her where he's off to, waiting on the coffee table of her apartment where she won't find it before he's already gone. It's also why he's sitting at Jitters with Iris West instead of bidding his goodbyes to Barry Allen, who'd look at him with warmth in his eyes and a soft smile that would tempt Leonard to abandon all his plans and stick around.

He has no intention of telling Iris any of that, but there's something sharp and taxing about the way she's watching him, and he knows those keen reporter instincts of hers are honing in on his reasons. He just hopes that of all the conclusions she could draw as to why he might be avoiding Barry, she'll settle on the wrong ones.

Either way, she doesn't ask and doesn't comment on it. She thoughtfully looks at him while relentlessly stirring in her coffee mug without drinking from it.

"If that's what you prefer, sure, I'll tell him," she finally says.

Leonard inclines his head. "Appreciate it."

"It'll make him happy, anyway."

He snorts. "Yes, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to have one less criminal to deal with. He shouldn't get too comfortable, though. I plan on being back to putting the Flash on ice in no time. And I don't mean the coffee." 

Clearly, even Iris's willingness to let him get away with his bullshit is limited. She fixes him with an uncomfortably knowing glare. "You know that's not what I meant, Snart. He'll be happy you're doing some good out there. In fact, I'm sure he'll be pretty much insufferable when he hears that he was right about you."

"I told you— "

"Yes, I know." She waves his objection off. "You're only in this for the money. You don't have a heroic bone in your body. I heard you. But if you think for one second that Barry is going to buy that, you don't know him at all." 

"I'll just have to disabuse him of his illusions once I'm back. Again. Maybe one day the lesson will stick."

"Good luck with that." Iris's tone is a mixture of amusement and frustration that makes Leonard wonder how often she or her father have argued this point with Barry. 

Leonard can't deny that there's something appealing about the idea of Barry refusing to listen to Joe West telling him not to give Captain Cold any more second and third and tenth chances and to stop putting his trust in him. Not that the good Detective would be wrong, of course.

"Gotta take care of it when I get back, then." He pushes his chair back and stands. "As always, it's been a pleasure talking to you, Miss West. Give Barry my regards."

He's a little sad he's going to have to miss that particular conversation, and Barry's reaction to finding out that his girl had a coffee with Captain Cold. It makes him wonder if Iris ever shared their previous little Jitters run-ins with Barry.

"Take care of yourself out there," she tells him before he can turn around and take his leave. 

There's something about the way she looks at him, something about her tone of voice. It's too sincere, too gentle, too _much_. 

He puts on his most complacent, sarcastic smile. "Always." 

When he turns to go, he doesn't look back.

**IV. Dead Man Walking** _(May 2017)_

Grabbing a coffee while Barry gets whatever he needs so they can complete step one of his half-baked 'infiltrate A.R.G.U.S.' plan was Iris's idea, but that doesn't do anything to ease the awkwardness between them.

It's weird being back here. Back in Central, back with Team Flash – actually _with_ them rather than fighting them, this time around. Back at Jitters with Iris. For Leonard, the last time they sat here, at this very table, discussing Leonard's intentions to leave with the Legends, was barely a few months ago. For her, it's been over a year. 

He's not naive enough to be unaware of what that discrepancy means, why Iris isn't having this conversation with the Leonard Snart from 2017 instead, why Barry ran all the way back to 1892 to find him. The knowledge sits heavy as a stone in the bottom of his stomach, and part of him wants nothing more than to excuse himself and find his sister. Chronos' threats against her are still too fresh in his mind, and the need to seek out reassurance that she's alright is only elevated by the realization that there's not going to be another chance.

"Thanks for helping us," Iris says quietly, interrupting his train of thought.

Her posture is tense, the coffee mug cradled in her hands as if she's clinging to it, like holding onto it is the only thing that's keeping her together. Leonard remembers Barry's desperation in Siberia. _If you don't help me, she's going to die._ It must be eating at her, having a death sentence hang over her like that. 

Kinda ironic, Leonard thinks. They're both dead people walking now. At least for her, time hasn't quite run out yet.

"Don't mention it."

Iris's lips curl into a faint smile. "You said that before. When I was working here and you chased away that jerk who wouldn't take no for an answer. It's not just a phrase for you, is it? You actually mean it literally. Like you're worried that bringing up that you did something nice and selfless will ruin your reputation."

It's what he meant the first time. Now, though, it's just force of habit. 

"Something makes me think it's too late to be concerned about my reputation in your time. Kinda pointless, too. Isn't that right, Iris?" He stares her down.

To her credit, she doesn't attempt to misunderstand. She looks stricken, caught looking like a deer in the headlights, and her restless fingers around her mug still at once. Then she seems to fold into herself, shoulders dropping. 

"I'm sorry."

Funny thing, she genuinely _sounds_ sorry. Leonard wonders if her regret is about the fact or about the deception, that one massive lie of omission she and Barry and, he suspects, all of Team Flash are guilty of. Not that it matters. 

"I get it. I've heard the old 'integrity of the timeline' spiel a few times myself." He lifts a shoulder in a one-sided, nonchalant shrug. "It's fine. Not like I imagined growing old and dying peacefully in my bed, the kind of life I've been living."

All things considered, he's not unhappy with how things played out, and if it's game over for him in a few weeks' or a few months' time, that's alright with him. 

Still, there are things he regrets. Not being able to protect Lisa better from their father. Not valuing Mick's friendship as much as he should have. Taking a few risks he shouldn't have taken... and not taking some he should have. Not saying a proper goodbye to Lisa when he had the chance. At least with Barry, he has an opportunity to rectify that particular mistake. If he was a more sentimental person, he'd wonder if that's part of the reason why Barry enlisted his help, getting to say goodbye. There must have been someone equally qualified for this mission who was alive in 2017 and whose assistance wouldn't have required breaking the laws of time but instead, Barry pulled Leonard out of the time stream. It probably means something, but Leonard doesn't have the energy, nor in fact the time, to figure it out.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Iris's gaze turns far away, unfocused. "We had a bunch of narrow misses and lucky escapes, all of us. And too many losses to keep believing that this kind of luck will hold forever." 

Leonard wonders if he's included in those losses, if his death will be more than a footnote in the heroic history of the Flash. 

"I recorded a message for Barry. You know, just in case," Iris says, looking up at him again. She looks shaken, but her eyes are dry and her voice firm, and not for the first time Leonard finds himself impressed with her strength.

"Not a bad idea," he concedes. "Should have done that for Lisa before I left. Hindsight's a funny thing."

"She's doing well. Cisco's still keeping up with her." His expression must be giving away what he thinks of Lisa's association with Cisco because Iris chuckles and assures him, "Not like that! He got in touch after— After we heard about you. She's moved to California. Cisco keeps complaining that she's always sending pictures of herself living the high life while we're stuck dealing with with one crisis after another."

Knowing Lisa, Leonard suspects her new life isn't quite as glossy and drama-free as when she's sharing. But if she wasn't fine, more or less, she wouldn't be teasing Cisco from the other side of the country, and that's good enough for Leonard.

"Good. She deserves a break." She deserves more than that, and Leonard hopes that one day she'll have it all, even if he won't be around to see it.

Iris's phone, lying on the table between them, beeps with an incoming message. She picks it up and looks at it, and the line of her shoulders grows even more tense. "It's Barry. He got the facial transmogrification device ready."

Their temporary little reprieve is over, then. Shame, really. It was nice while it lasted, and Leonard is not in a hurry to get back to his own timeline. But there's no point in stalling, not when the clock is relentlessly ticking down on Iris's fate.

Leonard stands and stretches his neck. "Alright then. Let's go and change your future."

**V. Home Sweet Home** _(June 2020)_

"Leo?"

Leonard cranes up his head and squints at Iris. 

He'd counted on being stumbled upon by Team Flash here at Jitters, half-hoped it would be Iris who found him. It's the whole reason he's been sitting at the corner table since early afternoon, having so many fancy coffee drinks that his stomach has starting churning in protest from the sugar and caffeine overload. And yet, now that Iris actually is here, he has to fight down the irrational urge to make his excuses and flee.

He clamps down on the impulse rigorously and doesn't take the easy out. "Try again."

It's satisfying to watch the shift of emotions crossing her face, confusion morphing into surprise and stunned disbelief.

"What— _Snart_?! How is this—" She stops herself mid-sentence before pulling out a chair and sitting down heavily, staring at him like she expects him to change into someone else right in front of her. "Is it really you?"

"The one and only. Well, on this Earth."

He isn't sure how he feels about the idea of other Leonard Snarts on different Earths, can't say he regrets not being around for _Leo_'s visit on board of the Waverider. Iris seems all too familiar with his sociable goody-two-shoes doppelganger too, seeing how she reacted when she walked in and found Leonard, and damn if that realization isn't accompanied by an odd sense of jealousy.

Across the table, Iris is still watching him skeptically. 

"You died," she points out, as if she's waiting for him to deny it.

He can't, of course. Not without lying, and this isn't the kind of thing he wants to lie about. Not to Iris, anyway. At the same time, he has little desire in getting into the details of his time in the Oculus. 

He lifts a shoulder in a one-sided shrug, deliberately casual. Death, no big deal, right? "I did. And didn't. It's complicated."

The comment startles a huff of laughter out of Iris. "'It's complicated'? Really? That's what people say about relationships, not _dying_." She shakes her head. "I don't know why I'm so surprised, though. If anyone could cheat death, it's you."

"I'm hardly that special. Not like I'm the only one who _cheated_ their way out of dying." Leonard narrows his eyes at her, giving her a pointed look, satisfied when her expression turns somewhat contrite.

"I'm sorry. That's not— I didn't mean it as some kind of reproach. I'm glad you found a way out. Genuinely." 

There's warmth in the smile she aims at him that he doesn't quite know what to do with. It doesn't seem that long ago since she called him a homicidal maniac in the festively decorated living room of the West family home. Even if he's teamed up with Barry to save her life since then, her sincerity makes him feel more prickly than usual. In Leonard's experience, people rarely feel that charitable about him, and certainly not nice upstanding citizens like Iris West.

"Hmm. If you say so." He leans back in his chair. "So, what did I miss while I was gone?"

Curiously, it's that question, open-ended and harmless as it is, that makes Iris's face close up. She laughs without mirth. "How much time do you have? It's been three years, Snart."

"Just give me the Cliff Notes."

He doesn't know what, exactly, he expects. A run-down of the villains Barry defeated, mostly, sprinkled with updates of how Team Flash has been doing while he was gone. He's not really prepared for what Iris unloads on him.

"You want the Cliff Notes? Well, let's see... Our plan with the Speed Force Bazooka to defeat Savitar didn't work out. H.R. sacrificed himself for me, and I ended up shooting Savitar. Because, you know, killing a psychopath wearing the face of the man I love was always on my bucket list. And the kicker is, as some bizarre kind of punishment, Barry got himself locked away in the Speed Force for half a year. Then he got back and our wedding got hijacked by Nazis from another Earth. It's a pity you didn't make it. It was a really nice ceremony before the shooting started. Mick gave us forty stolen toasters, by the way, so the presents were almost as memorable as the wedding. And of course we didn't get a proper honeymoon. Instead, Barry went to prison for a murder he didn't commit. Then Nora— our daughter from the future came to visit us to get to know her dad, because Barry's been missing for most of her life. Except by traveling back in time, she changed the timeline in a way that now she'll never exist. And Barry vanished from existence anyway, and I thought we'd never get him back. But then we did. And we got, like, a ten-second break and now there's already a new meta who wants the Flash's head on a plate."

By the time she's done, she's talked herself into a frenzy before coming to an abrupt stop and taking a deep breath as if she's struggling to contain herself. "So... business as usual, I guess?" The smile she offers him is tight-lipped and brittle. 

In all his time going against Barry and his friends, Leonard never really considered the toll it took out of Team Flash, how thin they've been spreading themselves for years. 

He still remembers setting a trap for the Flash, the annoyance of being ignored. The presumptuousness of believing he should have Barry's undivided attention that was partly ego and partly ignorance. If he'd known then how much Barry had on his plate on any given day... Well, Leonard wouldn't have gone easier on him, exactly. But he may have been more appreciative, all those times when Barry did in fact give him the attention he craved. 

"Three years, huh? Sounds like ten."

"It really feels like ten." She sounds tired, but she doesn't look it. She's still every bit as radiant as he remembers, the same glow on her face just like when she was a nameless barista across the counter who handed him a coffee, all those years ago. "He still misses you, you know."

He doesn't bother holding in the disbelieving huff. "Right."

"Does it really surprise you? You know he cares about you more than he probably should. And unless I'm very much mistaken, the feeling's mutual." Iris doesn't give Leonard enough time to deny having favorable _feelings_ of any kind for the speedster, pressing on. "You should come and see him. If those three years have taught me anything, it's to latch onto every bit of happiness we can find and hold onto it as long as we can."

He freezes, unsure if she's really saying what he thinks she's saying. But it's hard to interpret her words in a different, more innocuous way.

"Sounds like a compelling argument to want me out of your life rather than in it."

He doesn't think he would try to steal Barry away from Iris – even if he could, which he very much doubts, considering Barry's devotion to his wife. Leonard's grown too fond of Iris, and it doesn't take much to see how good she is for Barry. But, well. He's a thief at heart. Impulse control isn't his strongest suit, and he has a long history of ruining everything good in his life. 

If Iris is at all put off by the warning, she doesn't show it. She reaches across the table and covers Leonard's hand with hers. He's too startled to pull back. 

"Leonard," she says quietly. He raises an eyebrow at the name. _That's_ new. "He's not the only one who's missed you."

He looks down at where her soft, slim hand rests on top of his, the overhead lights reflecting in her wedding band. He needs to pull away and end this now, nip it in the bud before he does something foolish like consider what she's carelessly offering. For their sake as well as his own. 

But maybe he really came back wrong, or perhaps Mick was right and he's going soft, because he somehow can't make himself push her away. It's like his body simply won't cooperate and his hand stays where it is, flat against the smooth, coffee-stained surface of the table, unmoving underneath Iris's. 

She squeezes his hand briefly and then, perhaps sensing his inner turmoil, retreats. "Just think about it, okay?"

Leonard finally raises his gaze back towards her, watching her with hooded eyes. "I'll think about it. No promises."

Her smile is soft and bright. "That's all I'm asking."

**(+ 1) New Beginnings** _(July 2020)_

"I didn't think you were coming," Barry blurts out, subtle as ever.

Truth is, Barry's suspicions weren't exactly wildly off-base. Leonard almost didn't come. Probably shouldn't have come, for all it's worth. What made him change his mind, ultimately, was the knowledge that staying away likely wouldn't be enough to make them write him off. It's easy to envision it all play out: Barry would use his speed to search every corner of Central and give him the sad, disappointed puppy-dog eyes once he'd tracked Leonard down. And Iris would run into him at Jitters sooner or later, and she'd look at him with sympathy that would make him want to crawl out of his skin.

No, better to get it over with right away. Sit down, have a drink, look them in the eye and tell them that they should get this foolish pipe dream out of their heads.

So why does Leonard's stomach do somersaults when his gaze falls on Barry for the first time since their fun little break-in at A.R.G.U.S. (there's something to be said for almost being eaten by a giant man-shark, especially when it comes with a side of getting to watch the Flash break the law), what feels like half an eternity ago? Even after everything Iris told him they'd been through in these last few years, Barry still has that same soft, hopeful look about him that undoes Leonard every time, no matter how hard he tries not to let it affect him. 

"And miss this charming reunion? Now why would I do that?" The sarcastic smirk he puts on feels a little forced. 

Not that it matters. He needn't have bothered; all his pretense at indifference does is amuse Barry. Grinning, he steps into Leonard's space, and Leonard could swear that there's super speed involved because he doesn't have enough time to react and move out of the way before Barry throws his arms around him and pulls him into a hug. 

He freezes, his spine stiffening in Barry's embrace, but he can't quite make himself shove Barry off. He wonders if Barry can feel his sharp intake of breath, or how his heartbeat picks up like it does when he gets ready for a job and the adrenaline rush has the blood pumping faster through his veins. This feels like courting danger in a different kind of way, with risks he can't calculate. It's terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

"Not sure if Iris told you, but I'm not my touchy-feely doppelganger," he drawls once he's found his voice again. 

Barry's quiet chuckle vibrates against Leonard's chest. "Don't worry, Snart, I'd recognize you anywhere." 

He's smiling when he pulls away, but his eyes are suspiciously wet. Despite Iris's assurance that Barry misses him, Leonard has a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that those tears are for him.

He doesn't want to speculate about what they mean, so he takes a step away from Barry and leads them through the busy bar into the more quiet, secluded area where a corner booth is waiting for them.

When they're seated, Iris lets her gaze drift through the dimly-lit room. "Nice place."

It's hard to tell whether she's being sarcastic or genuine. _After Dark_ is a run-down bar, but there's a certain charm about it, and it's less of a dingy shithole than _Saints and Sinners_. Of course, that's not saying much. When he agreed to this meeting, Leonard deliberately chose this venue because he feels more comfortable here than at Jitters. And maybe also because he knew it would be unfamiliar territory for Barry and Iris, more his turf than theirs, and he thought wrong-footing them would tip the scales in his favor.

"Glad you approve."

The look Iris gives him makes him think she knows exactly what he's doing. Next to her, Barry seems distracted, watching the girl at the bar prepare drinks.

"Getting nostalgic?" Iris asks him, nudging him with her shoulder. Barry laughs in response, an easy familiarity between them that makes Leonard feel like an intruder, and only partially because he doesn't get the reference. 

He raises an eyebrow at them and Barry shakes his head. "Sorry, long story. Well, actually, it's not. I once went to another Earth where I was a bartender. It was... quite the experience."

Leonard's eyebrow only wanders higher. He allows himself a moment of indulgence to picture Barry behind the counter, wearing a tight shirt that leaves little to the imagination, hair wild like it is when he pulls off the Flash cowl and a come-hither smirk on his face. Appealing as the mental image is, it's hard to imagine Barry not sticking out like a sore thumb in an establishment like this. 

"Looking for a new job, Barry? I can put in a good word for you with the owner."

Barry clearly shares Leonard's amusement at the idea, his lip curling. "Yeah, thanks, but between Flash duty and my work for the CCDP, I'm busy enough. I spent all day processing evidence from a hit on a restaurant we're fairly sure is a front for money laundering for the Santinis." He holds Leonard's gaze. "You don't happen to know anything about that, do you?"

Well, that was quick. Leonard expected that incident to come up eventually, he just didn't think it would be that fast. Trust the speedster not to waste any time getting to the point.

Feigning disinterest, he makes a show of inspecting his fingernails. "No idea what you're talking about."

Across from him, Iris huffs out a laugh. Barry rolls his eyes, his look of exasperation mingling with a fondness that makes Leonard's insides clench.

"Just be careful, okay? CCPD isn't going to spend much time and resources on finding out who stole a bunch of money that technically doesn't exist, but if it turns into an all-out mob war or if innocent people get involved, it'll be a different story."

Leonard leans forward, arms on the table, and fixes Barry with a smirk. He makes his voice drop, low and dangerous. "Worried that you're out of practice going against me, Scarlet? Maybe you're not up to it anymore."

Barry snorts. "Don't worry, I can still take you."

Before Leonard can think of a fitting response, Iris makes a choked voice. "Oh my God. I thought being on the radio and listening to you flirt and treat fights as foreplay was bad, but this thing here —" She motions between Barry and him. "That's bordering on public indecency." 

"What? What are you talking about? We weren't treating fights as— as _foreplay_!" Barry splutters.

Leonard is inclined to agree. At least at the beginning, he was _dead_ serious about doing away with the Flash, and he's pretty sure Barry was doing his level best to put him away. Doesn't mean he can't enjoy riling Barry up a little, especially as the gloomy overhead lighting makes the faint blush that's rising on Barry's cheek look very fetching.

"Speak for yourself, Barry," he drawls.

Barry's head snaps around to him, and for a moment he looks nicely flustered before he seems to realize that Leonard's just teasing him. His eyes narrow. "Guess you're just bad on the follow-through then, considering you already had me on my back."

It's a struggle not to let the image those words paint distract him. "Maybe I just like to take it _slow_. Just ask your lovely wife. We had our first coffee date all the way back in 2015." 

"Not sure if I'd call it a date, Leonard," Iris says, laughter swinging in her voice, drawing Leonard's attention away from Barry. "And if you want to get technical, the first time was the year before that, even if I didn't know who you were then."

His memories flash back to that frosty November day, not all that long after his first encounter with the Flash. In retrospect, things seemed so much simpler then – before time travel and alternate Earths, before a boy with lightning in his eyes and the conviction that Leonard was worth saving started to appeal to his better angels. 

Simpler, but less interesting.

"Been a long time," he concedes.

And maybe Iris is thinking the same thing, remembering the good old days with a mixture of nostalgia and distance, a life long left behind, because her smile turns wistful and soft. "Yeah. And somehow we made it here, against all odds."

Something passes between them that Leonard can't quite name, an unexpected sense of companionship that he doesn't feel the need to immediately shatter with a sharp comment. He holds Iris's gaze and allows himself to let the moment linger.

Of course, Barry wouldn't be Barry if he didn't zero in on Leonard's temporarily lowered defenses and decide it was the right time to push.

"Look, Snart—" he begins and then amends, "_Leonard_. I know you were joking before, but I want to give this a try."

Leonard had this part planned out. A whole damn speech, the words like frostbite that would hurt worse than a blast from the Cold Gun and made sure Barry and Iris realized what a colossally bad, foolish idea this was. But the words feel like lead on his tongue, and he can't bring himself to say any of them. 

He swallows and averts his eyes. "You sure about that? You really wanna rock the boat, Barry? That's a lot of faith in someone who's betrayed you before." 

"Are you really asking Barry if he's ready to rush into danger without considering the risks?" Iris asks, amused and incredulous. "Have you met my husband?"

"Point." He inclines his head and gives Iris a sly, sideways look. "Not usually your M.O., though, is it?"

That's the part he can't quite wrap his mind around. Barry getting it into his head to make a play for Leonard out of the impulsive, misguided belief that he can somehow make this work? Entirely in character. Iris, though? She's always struck Leonard as too level-headed to be willing to go along with Barry's reckless Hail Mary plans. Shouldn't she be talking Barry out of it instead of following him down this rabbit hole?

"Oh, no. I've thought this through. Someone had to." She squeezes Barry's hand and gives him a fond, warm smile that turns a little mischievous when she turns to Leonard. "There may have been a pros and cons list. And that job that you claim you had nothing to do with made it onto the list." She doesn't need to say which side of the list it was on.

Leonard frowns. "And yet you're here."

"I am," Iris says, conviction in her tone and her eyes holding his, unwavering, like a challenge.

"We are," Barry adds.

Leonard looks at their joined hands on the table, their fingers securely entwined.

If he were kinder, smarter, less selfish, he'd get up and leave. Their lives have too many complications without him adding to them, intruding on their marriage and turning the steady foundation of their relationship into a precarious balancing act. But he is who he is, and he's never been good at stopping himself from seizing things that aren't his to take.

"I ain't gonna change," he warns. 

If they were hoping to reform him by taking 'keep your enemies closer' to new levels, this is going to go up in flames faster than if Mick set fire to it.

"We're not asking you to."

Leonard gives Barry a skeptical look. He's heard the old 'there's good in you' spiel of Barry trying to convince him to change sides a bit too often. But Barry holds his gaze, unflinching and steady, like he knows he's being tested. To be fair, he didn't bother lecturing Leonard about the Santini heist and he seemed mostly unconcerned about the possibility of similar endeavors in the future, so maybe there's hope for him yet. 

And maybe, just maybe, there's hope for them.

"Fine," Leonard bites out. It's a struggle to make it come across his lips, this one small word that seems to have the power to unmoor his future and lead him into uncharted territory more than even the destruction of the Oculus did. But the twin smiles on their faces – Barry's bright and joyous, and Iris's soft and full of warmth – are all the reward he needs.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love (like a sugary coffee drink at Jitters, but with zero calories)! ♥
> 
> You can [find me on Tumblr](http://sproutwings.tumblr.com) (though not as much as I would like to, because I'm on limited internet until fall and Tumblr is eating up all my bandwidth), drowning in Coldflash feels, one GIF set at a time.


End file.
